


The Convoluted Dance

by etc_crack



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, Feels, Insecurity, Lancelot - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Public Speaking, This is the aftermath, Time Skips, after the war Galra need a place to stay, lancelotweek2017, the war is over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 14:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12819921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etc_crack/pseuds/etc_crack
Summary: There are a few moments when Lance sees it.One day it is at the corner of Lotor’s smile, the other, it is in his clenched fists as he refuses to give up.And sometimes -Sometimes Lance can even see it in himself.





	The Convoluted Dance

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for Lancelot Week 2017, Day 6. The prompt is strengths/insecurities. (Unbeta'ed)

“Alright, team! Look alive!” 

Lance adjusts his rifle, voice full of energy as his fingers make quick work of his gun, the scope soon focusing to show the crowd filing the avenue. "And don't get caught with your pants down"

"Tch!"

"Ahahahaha! Lance!"

"Alvarez, SHUT up!"                

“Hey!” Lance argues, voice going high in indignation even though a smile spreads across his lips.

“First of all,” he chats, fingers checking the mechanism of his rifle and making sure it is locked on the ledge. “ _Zethrid!_  Rude! Didn't I ask you to call me Lance?” 

He makes a disappointed noise at the back of his throat.  

“Second, how could you?! I shared all of my hair braiding secrets with you!”

“Alvarez!”

“He is right you know, I mean he  _DID_  share his trade secrets with you"

"Thank you!"

“Ezor, for fucks sake, not you too!”

“Can we please focus on the job at hand?!”

Hearing Acxa’s tone they all fall quiet.

Then...

“Just saying,” Lance murmurs, making sure his voice conveys a perfect kicked puppy imitation. “I feel so betrayed.”

“ _Lance!_ "

“Yeess?”

“Enough.”

Swallowing down his nervous giggle, Lance focuses his attention on the crowd, surveying the area through the scope. His nerves tingle with charged energy, paranoia getting under his skin and rubbing him the wrong way, like an annoying itch that he can't scratch.

"Alright, I'll play nice" he adds at last, getting into a more comfortable sitting situation, tone finally turning a touch serious. 

Ezor giggles over their communication line, eyes searching the roofs, and locating him to give a small wave. She is positioned inside the crowd, her shapeshifting ability making her the best candidate to hide within the masses. 

Zethrid is at the rear, positioned near the ornamental statue of Voltron, her giant body visible through the crowd if not for her sheer size, then because she is accompanied by various Galra peace members and Blades of Marmora agents. They are waiting quietly and patiently while getting various glances from the crowd, some distrustful, others downright terrified. The usual stuff...

And Acxa...

Scope moving Lance traces through the crowd to finally end up at the podium, the stage clear but filled with all kinds of equipment, ready to start the broadcast at any minute.

All according to schedule Acxa is still at back stage, accompanying the King. She is to stay at his side at all times, with everyone nervous of exposing their leader for too long.

Exhaling Lance bites into his lip, suddenly the silence getting to him. Before he can stop himself words tumble from his mouth. "So how is our oh mighty leader doing?"

There is silence for a few seconds then Acxa's voice cracks through the line. "....he is...ready."

Lance swallows down his sigh, giving a tiny eye roll instead. "I'm sure he is," he mutters. "But that wasn't what I asked." Through his scope he catches Zethrid's exasperated eye roll but decides to ignore it. That woman has been crossed of his list for treacherous behavior.

A few tense seconds pass then...

"He says that you should stop worrying."

Stop worrying?! He isn't worried! He is NOT!.... ok, maybe he is. BUT that doesn't give the right to the pretty boy to call him out on it!

"Does he now?" Lance grumbles.

"Lance," Acxa warns again, this time her voice quiet as if she is trying to keep their conversation from a certain Galra King. "I need you to focus"

Gritting his teeth Lance shifts his position and pulling his eye from the scope sends a quick glance to the empty stage. "Yes, fine" he replies a second later, eyes absentmindedly tracing over the crowd.

He knows... he knows how this is supposed to go, how it is planned and yet-

A subtle ripple goes through the crowd, eyes and ears turning towards the stage, a low murmur starting, soon to be crushed into an booming applause. Each and every equipment on the stage suddenly comes alive and as if cued, from the left corner, a hero walks on to the stage.

"Shiro! Shiro! Shiro! Shiro!" 

And behind him, Lance finally sees.... _Lotor_...

He stands with his head high, posture relaxed and a pleasant ( _fake! fake! fake!_ ) smile over lips. Even with the power and confidence radiating from his frame, he looks vulnerable beside Shiro and his paladin armor. His white ornamental robes sway in the light breeze, long hair open and down.

"We thank you for your support! This war couldn't have been won without your faith and support!"

Another round of applause ripples through the spectators, the crowd absolutely in love with Shiro the Hero.

But soon... it will be Lotor's turn.

Determination spreading over his shoulders, Lance takes a deep breath then once again settles into his position, one eye closed, the other at the scope. "-And now please give a warm welcome to our ally, King of Galra, Lotor!"  

A loaded confused silence falls over the crowd, all eyes and cameras turning towards the new Galra King.

Lance takes a deep breath.

It is showtime!

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

" _King?_ " Lance questioned, eyes tracking Lotor's movements as the other strolled through the command room. 

"Yes," Lotor replied easily, confident in every way. “We've concluded the term emperor can be conceived as...  _imposing_."

Lance gave an unapologetic snort.  _No shit!_

"Think of it as... REBRANDING!" Coran chipped in, his energy and adorable try in jazz hands giving Lance life. "I believe that's what is called, yes, rebranding... I mean a fresh perspective is really needed when it comes to Galra nation, I mean I can't even-" Suddenly stopping Coran gave Lotor an almost apologetic smile. "No offense, Prince Lotor"

A calm and polite smile appeared on Lotor's face, his tone incredibly accommodating when he spoke. "None taken" 

Lance’s eyes narrowed, carefully watching the prince. There was something wrong with that smile.

"The people are not ready to face another Galra Emperor" Allura cut in, her tone soft but in control.

Which was fair, Lance supposed. After Zarkon and his crushing tyranny the universe certainly deserved something better.

"What about the Galra?" Keith grumbled.

Immediately Lance's gaze fixed on the other boy, eyes this time narrowing in thought.

The Galra?...

"Yes?" Lotor asked, a brow rising elegantly.

"They can't be too happy about this!"

Oh... As much as it pained him to admit it, Keith was right.

"The mullet has a good point"  Lance supported, ignoring but immensely enjoying the conflicted scowl on Keith's face.  "Your people won't be pleased that you are leaving the title for something less."

They won't be pleased with you leaving the conquest, went unsaid.

Though as if he heard the silent challenge, Lotor turned to him, for a few seconds something dark passing through his eyes before, once again control shifted into its familiar place. "Let me handle  _my people_ ” 

A tight  ~~self-deprecating~~  smile spread over Lotor’s lips, causing an unidentified chill to pass down Lance's spine. "You will soon understand how adaptive they can be."

 

That was the first time Lance ever saw it.

Strength and weakness...all wrapped into one entity...

It was... _intriguing_.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Lotor looks calm over the podium, his hands open and entirely unthreatening against the defensive faces of the crowd. "People of Naen!" He calls out, voice warm even through the metallic quality of the sound system. "I know you are sceptic at seeing me before you and even though you may have doubts, I want to you to be certain why we are here."

Lance turns his scope away, tracing through the crowd and looking for any disturbance. 

"We are here, only because we hope for a better future!"

Breath hitching Lance keeps himself from turning towards Lotor. The line sounds so... sincere, so natural. If Lance hadn't known the production phase, he thinks he would have been fooled by the whole display.

Quickly checking a few faces from the crowd he almost bites his lip. There is shock and disbelief in almost every face, a hushed expectant silence falling over the crowd. There is also a healthy amount of distrust but that ought to be expected.

But one thing is certain. The crowd can't take their eyes of the Galra King.

"That is true" Lotor continues, his voice turning softer. "I don't expect you to believe that I am, we are here for the prosperity of the universe. Because that is simply...not true."

A collective murmur breaks through the crowd, Lance's finger twitching over the trigger. He can't watch Lotor from his current point of view but he knows this is the part where he moves from his position, getting closer to the people.

“It is not the prosperity of the universe that we seek! What drives us is simply... family.

A new kind of silence falls over the crowd as people of Naen turn wistful.

There is a clog at Lance's throat as well, eyes stinging and as he watches he can see similar expressions on other people's faces. Painful or grateful...remembering family matters.

"We want a better future for them, we want to give them hope, to  _protect_  them!"

A pause and Lance can swear every heart stops with Lotor's words, his own throat turning tight with nervous energy as sweat breaks inside his palms at hearing this new part.

"But most vital of all...we want to belong."

Lance's heart stops.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Lance has always been a people's person, coming from a crowded and close family culture it wasn't really surprising.

He has always been proud of being a people's person too. Wanting to be close to someone, sharing bits and pieces of your experiences, just reaching out and touching...

Though...sometimes universe was too vast, too hostile to just reach out and connect.

 

“Was you father an alien? Because let me tell you, there’s nothing else like you on Earth!"

A few amused huffs and disapproving, condescending eye brows later, Lance waved off the passing Galras, his feet moving past them. 

"Ok," he smiled over his shoulder. "I get it, you are simply mesmerized by my touching lines. You need time to absorb the beauty of them."

It has been nearly two months since he had started travelling with the Galra nation, the program to ensure the peace and integration throughout the universe requiring the Paladins to connect with their allies. Pidge had got the Olkari, Hunk, the Balmerans (lucky bastard!). Keith was with the Arusians and Shiro with Puigians which left Lance with...the Galra.

It was cool though, it was ok. Lotor was calm, all polished smiles and diplomatic nods and his generals even though tense at times were...civil. Blades of Marmora were still cautious but slowly establishing relationships and starting to trust... and yet, Lance's attempts at connecting with others were not yielding much positive results.

It wasn't that Lance was ostracized or actively shut out. Oh no! He still had a certain level of connection with some Galras, thank you very much. And those were certainly promising but without his lion Lance guessed he would have gone insane by now.

Moving down the corridor, he let his feet to take him towards the communal areas, hoping to actually find an opportunity to start a conversation with a few people. The ship was almost a maze, each and every corridor looking same to him, and two months still not enough time to fully explore the giant space.

But communal area 5 was probably the most popular and easily accessible area within the ship and that’s where Lance spent most of his days. It was always crowded which actually gave him the opportunity to struck a few conversations with the others and it was-

Suddenly stopping at the entrance, Lance found himself looking at the back of a group of Galra, the hall packed with people.

Communal area 5 might have been popular but it was never  _this_  crowded...

"Hey, what is happening?"

At his question, the Galra with a red mane gave a side glance; lips pushed together and thin tale flicking against her thigh. "Ragk" she murmured, body moving aside and allowing Lance to see the center of the crowd where a huge Galra was towering over a petite figure, teeth bared and hackles raised.... _literally._

"You  _think_  you have the right?! You need to learn your place, half breed!."

"Huh, and what  _IS_  my place, exactly?! C'mon dirtbag, tell me!"

Wait...did he know that small Galra?... she looked so  _familiar_...

Suddenly a growl reverberated from the huge Galra's throat who Lance guessed to be Ragk, sharp teeth glinting in the artificial light of the ship. "Insolent mutt!" A huge hand reached over and before the other could stop it, curled around her throat.

_What the hell?!_

Lance looked around, expecting to see an inclination towards separating the two, only to find neutral faces.

Seriously?! What was this?  _Fight Club?!_

Before he could authorize it with his brain, he had already moved, body wriggling between the other Galra

and moving towards the two at the center.

_“Fuck off!”_

The other Galra was struggling, her teeth bared and trying to bite into Ragk’s hand, while her tail swished angrily, almost striking the other in the face.

He knew her but...he just couldn’t  _pin_  it down. Though shaking the doubt away Lance stepped forward.

“Heyyyyy guys, let’s try something different today and  _not_  rip each other’s throat out, yes?”

He pulled on Ragk’s arm, his other hand reaching out towards the other Galra. At the contact both of them turned towards him, surprise showing on their faces...in fact  _shock_  was in every face surrounding Lance, all Galra undecided on what to do with this new development.

At last Ragk decided to take the lead.

“This is not your fight, Paladin!” he growled, eyes narrowing in disdain, the message clear in his voice.

_Back off!_

“Hey!” Lance exclaimed indignant, his fingers digging into the other’s skin, still trying to pry it away. “This is a peace mission, so yeah it is my fight!”

Ok...that didn’t really make sense, but -

Suddenly the petite Galra’s body twisted, tail turning and swishing across the air to land a solid across Ragk’s face, and subsequently with a quick move teeth cutting into his hand.

A pained howl fell from Ragk’s mouth, blood running down his hand.

_Shit!_

As the two separated, Lance bit down on his lip but stepped between them, panic churning deep inside him and fear travelling down his spine.

“Chett! You  _mutt_!”

Wait...Chett?! Ah, now he remembered-

Before Lance could take another breath, Ragk gave a loud growl, his body charging towards the other.

“Hey,  _hey!_ Back off!  _Now!_ ”

No wonder finding a skinny human between his body and his target, Ragk looked surprised, his eyes opening wide before narrowing into dangerous slits.

“I  _said_ ,” he growled. “it is not your fight. Get out of my way!”

Lance took a deep breath, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“No.” he said simply, thanking universe for keeping his voice steady. “I’m not getting out of your way. Not with your attitude.”

“With my  _attitude_?” Danger was extremely clear in Ragk’s voice, his eyes now fully shifting from Chett to Lance. Or maybe it was homicidal intent...

“Yeah, buddy!” Lance said, putting his hands over his hips, chin up with stubbornness. “Your  _attitude_! What gives you the right to call her such names?”

Behind him Lance felt Chett shift, barely getting close to him.

“For one, I know she was one of the few who were stationed on the planet Ers. Half breed or not she fought for your stupid ass so you might consider re-thinking how you are going to address her. Besides -”

Ragk looked only shy away from strangling him but now Lance was pissed. Taking a step towards the giant Galra, he hit across Ragk’s chest with the back of his hand. “- do you really think you can afford fighting amongst yourselves, and alienate each other when half of the universe distrust your nation and the other half hates even hearing the word Galra?! Get real! You need to stick together or you are not going to make it!”

An eerie silence fell over the room.

 _Shit_ , Lance thought, panic squeezing around his throat. Great work at making friends, Lance.

Now he was always going to be an outsider and not just any outsider, but an outsider who looked down on them, who scolded them... Great... _just great_...

Taking a deep breath Lance readied himself to facing the music and drawing every Galra’s gaze on to himself. His hands curled into loose fists, legs shaking slightly, eyes watching carefully –

Wait?... Where were they looking? Somewhere-somewhere behind him?...

Turning slowly Lance surveyed the area, his eyes almost immediately focusing on the all familiar figure of Ezor and right beside her -

Lotor.

_Shit..._

Breath hitching Lance forced himself to calm down, a nervous tingle spreading down his spine, and his mind trying to estimate how much of the conversation Lotor might have heard.

“King Lotor-” he started, turning his attention to Lotor’s expression, entirely prepared to find anger, annoyance or any other negative feeling, yet-

There was a pleased smirk on Lotor’s lips... not a diplomatic smile, or a controlled neutral expression but a  _smirk_!

“The Paladin is right!” Lotor said, his voice carrying across the hall without any difficulty. “We will only be defeated faster if we start fighting amongst ourselves, if we try to bring each other down.”

Eyes turning to Lance and taking in his surprised expression, Lotor’s smirk got softer. “We need to stick together.”

Lance felt his throat close, face burning.

 

The second time he saw it...it was a realization, catching him off guard...

It was  _eye opening_.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

"Let me tell you a story" Lotor says, causing Lance's head to rise from the rifle and wide eyes to focus on the stage. He doesn't remember any of these being in the original speech, yet they all fit, like puzzle pieces that finally make the picture clear.

Lotor looks entirely too comfortable in front of an unfamiliar crowd, the silver in his white robes catching the lights from Naen's red sun and giving him an ethereal feeling.

Lance wonders if this was planned as well.

"It is the story of a young child born into controversy, persecuted from the start because of looking different, because of not being pure enough. _A half breed_." Lotor stops, eyes taking in the whole crowd, something rising from his frame, for a few seconds expanding, enlarging,  _imposing_. 

A shiver runs down Lance’s spine, his throat closing off.

"That was what the child was called.” Lotor continues, eyes entirely fixed on the crowd.  “‘You don't belong’, was what the child heard each and every day. It was the punishment...of being born different." Taking an audible breath Lotor stops at the edge of the stage. Silence expands before him, all eyes fixed on him.

"... Her name was Narti"

Shock ripples through Lance, similar reactions echoing through the other communication lines as well, each and every member of the audience including his team seem surprised, the world pulled right under their feet. 

“What is this?...” Zethrid breathes her voice tight and grave. “What is he doing?!”

Lance swallows, his fingers clenching around the rifle as the same question burns in his mind without any answer.

“She was a  _half breed_  as me, she was an ally, a...  _friend_ , and yet -  She was let down.” Eyes turning down, Lotor opens his hand, palms towards the audience, his frame looking extremely defenseless on the giant empty stage.

“She died because of her family”

Ezor takes a sharp breath, wetness in her voice calling for Lance’s attention.

Then taking a step back Lotor raises his head, eyes once again travelling across the crowd. “I have never had a family in the conventional sense.” He offers. “For me, it was never about blood”

Eyes fixed across the crowd, he raises his head. “It was about bond.”

Taking a few steps across the stage Lotor inhales with determination, a new kind of power settling over his frame, this time the energy far from hostile. “I am the leader of my people! I am the leader of Galra, of half breeds, of persecuted and persecutors. With their successes and failures, they are my  _family_.”

Looking through the crowd, Lotor soon fixes his gaze on Queen of Naen, her eyes looking even bigger now. “It is a leader’s responsibility to protect his people.” Lotor addresses the queen, his voice kinder. “ It is his responsibility to provide a better future for his family.”

For a single suspended moment, the crowd holds its breath, the queen scrutinizing Lotor, then...a tiny nod.

Replying with a nod of his own Lotor, once again turns towards the crowd. “That’s why I am here.”

As Lance watches the King takes a controlled breath, voice rising with emotion.

“The war  _wounded_  each and every one of us! It has left ruins in our cities, yes! But more tragically it has left debris and rubble in our  _hearts_. With every one we have lost-“

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

"The war has left ruins behind, not just in our cities but in our hearts as well-"

"Now, that was good!"

" _No.._ " Lotor growled, eyes fleeting across the paper in his hands. "It is too dry, it needs more feeling, a stronger tempo- It has to be  _more_!" 

" _Uugh_!" Lance let his head fall between the pillows his naked legs rising towards the ceiling as he wiggled his toes. "It has enough feeling, Lotor, please. You've been at it for five hours"

Raising his head Lance watched as, spectacularly ignoring him Lotor once again took his place in front of the mirror, eyes carefully fixed on his reflection, clearly ready to take the freaking speech from the top.

With a sigh Lance turned across the bed, face now turned towards the ceiling and long legs rising up and opening to the sides rhythmically. "At this point it is  _normal_  that it sounds dry to you" he tried, voice softer. “You’ve gone over it one too many times. You  _know_  the lines! That’s why they feel bland.”

There was a brief silence, then...

" _Lance.._." Lotor warned softly, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I have to get this right."

There it was... _the fear_

"My people-"

Turning on his stomach Lance fixed his gaze on the other man. "They know you are trying your best, they have eyes and they can see it!" Then getting up from the bed, Lance let himself get close to the other man, eyes fleeting across his face.

Under the soft lights of the bedroom, Lotor looked tired, shoulders down, blue eyes unfocused but his jaw set, stubbornness bleeding from his frame.

"You need to rest," he murmured softly into the space between their lips, hands settling over the other man's shoulders then moving up to cup his cheeks. "You have been at this for hours"

At the contact Lotor's body relaxed as a whole, a sigh making it past his lips, and eyes closing in relief.

Even after all this time, it was still exciting to see when Lotor showed vulnerability, his carefully built walls coming down around Lance, opening up,  _trusting..._

Encouraged at the reaction Lance took another step, warm body perfectly curling into Lotor's space. "C'mon, pretty boy, you can take another look in the morning." Lips ghosting, Lance gave his lover a look under his lashes. Fingers sensually trailed down the other man's arm, movements slow and careful, almost afraid to scare him. "It will be a fresh start." he whispered, fingers now brushing against the printed copy of the speech. " _Just_ come to bed..."

Lotor opened his eyes to look at him, his breaths already turning tight with arousal...or maybe it was exhaustion...  A second later, something wistful passed through his gaze, tongue peeking out to lick his dry lips before-

He took a step back, Lance's fingers only brushing against the paper, and coldness seeping into his skin with his lover's absence. "I need to get this right."

There was such an edge in Lotor's tone that Lance could only swallow down his objection, concern churning inside him. " _Lotor..._ " he murmured, reaching for him and planting a kiss over his lips. 

A sigh tickled his lips, breaths mingling and the moment staying almost suspended between them. Then eyes linked with intent, Lotor raised a hand to run through Lance's hair, fingers settling at the back of his neck. "Lance..." he whispered, causing a lazy heat to pool at his stomach.

Another kiss shared... This time longer, heavier, needier... breathtaking and absolutely  _toe curling_...

When they parted away, breaths still tight with need, Lance raised his eyes to look right into Lotor's, heart soaring without his permission.  "You'll do great... I know you will.”

Brows rising in surprise Lotor inhaled slowly, his breath quivering for a single second. Then with a smile that looked young on him, he nuzzled against Lance's nose, forehead leaning against his lover's.

Slowly...he exhaled.

"Thank you... _Lance_ "

 

Nowadays he saw it all the time, the convoluted dance of weakness and strength, chipping away and dragging down, supporting and pushing up...

It used to be intriguing.

It used to be eye opening.

Now... it is simply  _theirs_.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

"I am not here for the prosperity of the universe...and I am not here for Voltron's quest of achieving peace." 

Despite harsh words and commanding voice Lotor looks unsuspecting, his frame centered on the stage, and arms slightly open.

"WE are here for our families! We are here for those we couldn't protect and for those who we still want to!"

For a brief second a pained expression passes through the King's eyes.

"With all of our shortcomings and with all of our strength, the only thing that we want is to move forward!"

Lotor's gaze once again finds the queen, an expectant silence falling over the crowd.

"...And we want to move forward with  _you_ "

Silence...

Only shivering breaths and wide eyes fill the avenue...

Then –

Eyes closing, two fingers slowly rise up to touch across the queen's forehead.

The gesture of acceptance...of alliance...

One, then two, then three... Slowly the gesture spreads across the crowd, one by one fingers rising up, and a reverent hush falling over the people.

Across the stage, Naen's red sun raises high, its changing rays painting the King in pink. With a deep breath Lotor raises his fingers to his forehead and repeats the gesture.

"Thank you"

With a sigh and a smile, Lance closes his eyes, head tilted towards the sky.

 

 _Together_...they will move forward.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always enjoyed the stories where you get to see what happens after the big climax/conclusion. 
> 
> And this idea of Lotor trying to keep Galra under check and establish alliances so that they are not left homeless...it just stuck with me. I really felt it matched the prompt as well.
> 
> (The part about Narti though...that suckerpunched me. I wasn't planning for that..)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it ^^


End file.
